


I don't care if it hurts (I wanna have control)

by peopleinherearewaiting



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Control Issues, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Haircuts, LGBTQ Themes, Loss of Control, wow this is hard to categorise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:55:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29546856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peopleinherearewaiting/pseuds/peopleinherearewaiting
Summary: "Yaz was not the kind of person to give up control normally but she figured she would need to lose it completely if she wanted a fresh start with no lingering tensions. Of course, giving up control meant somebody else taking it. For her idea to work, she would need the Doctor’s help."~~~~~I am once again projecting onto fictional characters but maybe you guys will enjoy the fruits of my control issues :))
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	I don't care if it hurts (I wanna have control)

**Author's Note:**

> Tw for extremely brief mentions of depression & suicidal thoughts near the beginning, but it's not central.  
> Feel free to yell at me on Tumblr @callxthexmidwife if you wish.  
> Comments & kudos always appreciated cos validation is nice :)

The two months back home hadn’t been her idea. Graham and Ryan had wanted some time back on Earth to rest and catch up with friends. The Doctor had noticed her hesitancy to leave the TARDIS and suggested she stay, but Yaz supposed that she should make the effort to spend time with her family, however much she’d prefer to keep adventuring.

The first week back home wasn’t too bad. She got to enjoy her mum’s home cooking again, caught up on some TV shows, and met up with friends for coffee. But after that first week, time started to crawl until she was getting up at midday just to have less time to pass. Yaz loved her family, of course, but she was now remembering why she had been so excited to get away when she stepped aboard the TARDIS for the first time. Her family had known her all her life, but her space fam  _ knew _ her. 

She had come out to them just a few days into their time together, feeling almost instinctively like she could trust them with anything. After their run-in with Zellin, the immortal who twisted their most painful memories into something worse, Yaz was clearly feeling the effects more than the others. After a full day shut in her bedroom, the Doctor confronted her and became one of only a handful of people to hear about the bullying and suicidal thoughts she had suffered through in her teens. From then on, she could say what she wanted to the Doctor and the boys without feeling like she was being judged, or like they didn’t understand her. She started to open up on days when her mind was playing tricks on her and she stopped holding back in conversations. She felt seen and she felt free.

Her family didn’t know she was gay, and only Sonia had any idea what she had gone through as a teenager. Her family didn’t talk about personal things like that. She was equally thankful for and resentful of that fact. While she theoretically could discuss those kinds of things with her family, it would take emotional energy that she didn’t have, and she would have to deal with them not understanding or even judging her. So she kept quiet.

In practice, that wasn’t too difficult. She would simply avoid certain topics, hold back certain comments, ignore certain things her parents said. The first week wasn’t awful; she slipped back into how she always acted at home. But over time, the contrast between her life at home and her life on the TARDIS started to become sharper. The way she was suppressing fundamental parts of herself started to hurt in ways she couldn’t put into words. Her mind cycled through all the things she couldn’t say, wondering what would happen if she did say them and whether the aftermath would be worth it. Most of all, Yaz hated how in control she had to be at all times. Being constantly alert translated into being constantly tense. After three weeks back home, Yaz’s jaw was sore from clenching her teeth. 

Finally, after four weeks at home, Yaz gave up on pretending she was happy and texted the Doctor to pick her up. She said goodbye to her family, making all the normal excuses, before heading down to the normal spot where she was greeted by the sight of her friend leaning against the big blue box. She chuckled as the Doctor started waving energetically as soon as she saw her and headed over, rucksack on her back.

“Hey, you,” Yaz said, smiling as she drew her friend into a hug.

“Hi, Yaz! Didn’t expect to have you back so soon, not that I’m not glad, of course,” the Doctor replied, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost faster than Yaz could register them.

“Breathe, Doctor,” Yaz said, nudging her with her elbow before pulling them both into the box. “I missed you and wanted to be back on the TARDIS, is all.”

The Doctor beamed, practically skipping over to the central console. “I missed you too, Yaz, and we’re both happy to have you back, aren’t we?” The answering melodic hum of the TARDIS had Yaz reaching to touch the central console appreciatively. “Everything alright in Sheffield, though? Your family are all good, yeah?” the Doctor asked, already pulling levers and pressing buttons to vault them into the time vortex. When the answer didn’t come for a few seconds, the Doctor looked up at Yaz, eyebrows scrunched slightly with concern. “Everything  _ is _ alright, Yaz?” she asked again.

For a second longer, Yaz seemed to be lost in her thoughts, her eyes staring unseeingly into the distance. Then, like a switch had been flipped, she turned to smile at the Doctor. “Yeah, everything’s good, Doctor, not much has changed since the last time I was there. Now, where do you want to go while it’s just the two of us?” she asked, moving the conversation along.

The Doctor let her, knowing that it wouldn’t help to push Yaz at the wrong moment, although she certainly hadn’t been convinced by her friend’s answer. “How about an ancient civilisation?” she offered. “I know you enjoy history more than the boys do. How about you pick the continent and I’ll find us something interesting?”

Yaz smiled, knowing she was going to have a lot of fun after four weeks in her flat.

* * *

They had ended up in ancient Mesopotamia and the pair had happily spent a day wandering around the city of Uruk, taking in the sites and buying food from market stalls. The whole time, the Doctor rattled off facts about the history and culture, only pausing when Yaz reached out for her to point something out that they would take in together.

When the sun started to set, they headed back to the TARDIS, arms linked as they listened to the sounds of the city winding down for the night. Yaz stopped for a second outside the blue doors, turning to look out across the city one last time before turning to face the Doctor. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice rough with sincerity.

“Anytime, Yaz,” the Doctor replied, squeezing her friend’s arm gently before pulling them both inside.

That night Yaz lay awake in her bed, her thoughts swirling as she tried to get to sleep. She had loved every second of their day’s adventure, and not just because she had the Doctor to herself for once. She was back, free to explore and to be herself again. She was free to say anything she wanted to the Doctor, to  _ be _ who she wanted to be. And yet, she still felt trapped, like she was stuck behind a wall of her own creation. The wall that she had so easily created to keep parts of herself hidden while at home was not so easy to get rid of again. She tossed around for a while in her bed, trying to get comfy while turning over the question of how to get rid of the wall in her mind. After a while, she realised that the wall was there because of her self-control. She had thrown it up to keep control, so to tear it down she would need to lose control. Yaz was not the kind of person to give up control normally but she figured she would need to lose it completely if she wanted a fresh start with no lingering tensions. Of course, giving up control meant somebody else taking it. For her idea to work, she would need the Doctor’s help.

* * *

The next morning, Yaz stood in the shower, unmoving, as she thought about what she was going to ask of her friend. The hot water streamed down her body and pooled around her feet as she realised just how personal and how serious the favour she wanted was. For thirty minutes, or maybe an hour, she was asking her friend to be responsible for both of them, and not just in the way she usually was on adventures, but to make decisions for her, to take away any choices, to make it so that she didn’t have to think for herself, just for a little while. She still wasn’t sure how to achieve that.

The water started to cool after a while which she imagined was the TARDIS’s way of telling her to get out of the shower and get on with what she needed to do. She grumbled slightly as she pulled on her clothes before brushing her teeth and heading out towards the console room.

The Doctor looked up as soon as she entered, her mouth pulling into a grin that Yaz struggled to describe as anything other than dopey. “Morning, Yaz,” she said, a custard cream in one hand, and a screwdriver—a regular one—in the other. “Where do you fancy going today?”

Yaz smiled back at her, marvelling at her friend’s infectious enthusiasm. “Actually, Doctor,” she began, feeling nerves creeping up on her, “I was wondering if you might help me with something.”

The Doctor nodded immediately, bless her, happy to do something for her friend before even knowing what the favour was. “Sure, Yaz, what is it you need help with?” she asked before waiting patiently for the reply.

Yaz took a moment to work out the best way to word her request before giving up and hoping that the Doctor would understand her. “Um, would you maybe help me to lose control, just for a little while?” she rushed out, her words slightly shaky. She didn’t pause to wait for the Doctor to reply before continuing. “I have to be so in-control at home because there are so many parts of myself that I don’t want to share with my family and I spend so much time monitoring my words and actions so they don’t suspect anything, but it makes me so tense. And I thought I would just relax when I came back here, but I still feel like I’m holding myself back but I can’t stop myself. So, I need you to please help me lose control.”

Finally, she stopped, still not looking directly at the Doctor as she sometimes did when she opened herself up. The Doctor moved to stand in front of her friend, lifting her chin gently with her thumb so that Yaz was looking at her when she replied. “Okay, Yaz, how do you want to do this?”

* * *

That was a question that Yaz still hadn’t managed to figure out the answer to by herself. She told the Doctor as much, and they spent the morning trying to figure out how to make it happen. The Doctor would ask questions to figure out what Yaz needed from the experience, and Yaz replied as honestly as possible. Yaz had decided that it had to be something significant and meaningful, something that she wouldn’t usually do. She wanted to feel the hum of nerves that came with allowing someone else to do as they wanted, without knowing what might happen. She wanted the sharp satisfaction of letting everything fall away for a while.

Her eyes closed, Yaz sat on the floor with her back to one of the amber pillars, listening to the sound of the Doctor pacing around the console. The Doctor preferred to move while she thought, but Yaz was trying to lose herself in the darkness while she considered exactly what she wanted, what she needed.

“Ooh, what about a trust fall?” the Doctor asked, coming to a stop near Yaz. 

“Isn’t that rather easy? We did that kind of thing in primary school,” Yaz replied, cracking open one eye to see the cogs turning behind the Doctor’s eyes.

“Well, I’ve got a TARDIS with a swimming pool, perfect for a slightly bigger fall,” the Doctor said. “River jumped out of a spaceship once without even giving me warning but I still caught her…”

Yaz laughed, thinking about the other stories she had heard about the Doctor’s wife. “Somehow, I think it’s generally a good idea  _ not _ to follow River’s example,” she replied as the Doctor hummed her agreement.

“I could take you somewhere new without telling you anything about it,” the blonde offered, starting up her pacing again. “Maybe give you rules to follow while we’re there?”

Yaz shook her head, eyes still closed as she thought. “That sounds fairly close to what we do normally, considering you tend to act first, explain later,” she said, smiling at the indignant huff the Doctor let out. “But I do like the idea of using rules in some way. I think we should do something fairly ordinary but still different in some way.” She sighed, running her hands through her hair.

On the other side of the console room, the Doctor watched her carefully. “Yaz,” she started, slowly, “what if we did something that you could see the effects of for a while afterwards? Would it help to have that reminder that you can let go?”

Looking up, Yaz met the Doctor’s gaze. “That sounds really good,” she replied. “You’ve got an idea, haven’t you?”

The Doctor nodded. “You can definitely say no, of course, but maybe I could cut your hair. That’s something you’d normally have control over, and it’s a pretty big thing, right? Again, you don’t have to say yes, it’s just an idea.”

As the Doctor stumbled through her explanation, Yaz had climbed to her feet and made her way over to her friend. She reached out gently to touch the Doctor’s arm, squeezing it in reassurance. “That sounds perfect, Doctor, as long as you’re comfortable doing it.” She smiled as a flash of surprise passed over the Doctor’s face.

“You really trust me enough to do that?” the Doctor asked, reaching to take Yaz’s hand in hers.

“Yes, completely,” Yaz replied. “I trust you completely, Doctor.”

They stood together quietly for a second, letting the heaviness of the moment wash over them. Eventually, the Doctor spoke again. “Now we’ve figured out what we’re going to do, shall we figure out how we’re going to do it?” she asked. “I know you want me to take control, not give you any say in things, stuff like that, but what else do you need from me?”

Yaz thought for a minute before replying. “Can I just give you some ideas and then you choose what you want?” she asked. “I don’t want to know what’s going to happen.”

“‘Course,” the Doctor replied, “go for it.”

“Maybe you could restrict my senses in some way?” Yaz started. “Tell me to keep my eyes closed so I can’t tell what you’re doing, or tell me I’m not allowed to speak or move at all. Or maybe sit me in front of a mirror so I can see everything, make me feel everything you do. You could talk to me, remind me of how powerless I am, about how you could do anything you wanted to me. Don’t worry about hurting me.” As she trailed off, she looked up and immediately got lost in the darkness behind the Doctor’s eyes. A second later, the darkness was gone and the Doctor was stepping away.

“Okay, I think I can do something with that,” the Doctor said cheerily. “Don’t forget that you can tell me to stop anytime you need. I wouldn’t want to upset you at all.”

Yaz nodded, taking a deep breath as she thought of what they were about to do. “You too, Doctor,” she said. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

“Of course, Yaz,” the Doctor replied sincerely. “Now then, shall we get started?”

* * *

It was like a switch was flipped between them. One minute, they were equals, the next, the Doctor was in charge. Yaz could feel the power radiating off of her, could see something unfamiliar in her eyes. She felt in awe of her friend, her friend who had seen the births and deaths of civilisations. Her friend who was known across the universe both as a saviour and as a curse. She wanted to step closer, felt an almost magnetic pull towards the Doctor, but stayed rooted to the spot, waiting for something to happen.

After a drawn-out moment, the Doctor stepped into her personal space and reached out to tuck a strand of Yaz’s long, dark hair behind her ear. “Come with me, Yaz,” she instructed, voice low and husky. Yaz couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down her spine as she reached out to take the Doctor’s offered hand, letting herself be led down a corridor and into a bathroom. Her heart rate jumped as she caught sight of herself in the mirror, eyes wide as the Doctor pushed her down onto a stool that she had set in front of the mirror.

“What shall I do with you, Yasmin Khan?” the Doctor wondered aloud, lifting a hand to tenderly scratch at the nape of Yaz’s neck before gathering a fistful of hair and tugging sharply. “I could do anything I wanted to you right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” Her eyes moved to meet Yaz’s in the mirror, and she tried to ignore the satisfaction she felt at seeing the nervous anticipation in her friend’s face.

The Doctor let her hand drop to her side before moving in front of Yaz to retrieve a comb and a pair of scissors from a drawer. After a second of thought, she also took out a set of clippers and laid them on the counter, her lips turning up as she heard a quiet gasp behind her. Turning back around, the Doctor slowly set to work combing through Yaz’s long hair, making sure that Yaz could feel every movement, every pull. 

“If we’re going to do this, Yaz, we should do it properly, don’t you think?” the Doctor murmured, her voice thick like honey. “So I’m going to need you to be good for me and be quiet so I can concentrate. After all, I would hate to make a mistake. Do you think you can do that for me, Yaz?”

Yaz nodded earnestly in reply, doing her best to keep still on the stool.

Satisfied with her response, the Doctor picked up the scissors and moved to stand in front of Yaz. “You’re going to make the first cut,” she told her, passing her the scissors and lifting a strand of hair. Raising her hand slowly, Yaz opened the blades of the scissors around her hair and quickly shut them again, slicing through the strand. The Doctor passed it to her and she held it, running it through her fingers as she felt a shiver of relief run through her.

After allowing her a second to process, the Doctor took the scissors back and moved behind her again. “Close your eyes, Yaz,” she instructed, “and when you open them again, I’ll be finished with you.”

Once she had looked at the Doctor standing behind her in the mirror one last time, Yaz closed her eyes, trusting that her friend would look after her.

* * *

For the next half hour, the Doctor worked away, cutting strands of hair to her desired length. Mostly, she stayed quiet, making sure Yaz could hear the sound of the scissors, but every so often, she would whisper a few words of praise or mockery. While Yaz was clearly trying her best not to move, the Doctor would occasionally put her hands on Yaz’s temples to make sure her head was perfectly straight. When she did, she could feel Yaz’s pulse thudding under her fingertips. 

“You’re doing so well, Yaz,” the Doctor whispered, leaning closer so her breath tickled her friend’s ear. “You’re behaving perfectly for me.” Smiling sharply, she decided to let slide the low hum her friend made at the words. Instead, she gently combed through her hair again, falling into a rhythm before breaking it by suddenly grabbing Yaz’s chin and pulling her head back, her fingers dancing lightly over Yaz’s throat. “But you have to behave for me, don’t you? You’ve got no choice. You gave up every ounce of control you had and now I can do anything.”

Throughout, the Doctor could feel Yaz’s heart rate increasing and her body was trembling under her hands, but to Yaz’s credit, she never opened her eyes.

Removing her hands and repositioning Yaz’s head, the Doctor continued speaking. “Luckily for you, Yaz, I’m feeling very generous and you’ve given me no reason to punish you, so I’m going to make sure you look good.” Picking up her scissors again, she made sure the length was even and softened the ends so the cut didn’t look blunt. When she was happy with her work, she set down her scissors and comb and gently blew some of the loose hair off of Yaz’s bare shoulders, delighting in the involuntary shiver that passed down her spine.

Placing her hands on Yaz’s shoulders, she turned to look at them both in the mirror.

“You can open your eyes now, Yaz,” she instructed.

* * *

Blinking a few times as her eyes tried to adjust to the light, Yaz’s gaze first fell on the reflection in the mirror. The Doctor was still standing behind her, quietly letting her take everything in. She looked down to her own reflection as her hands rose to run through her hair, now five or six inches shorter than it had been before. She broke into a slow smile as she saw just how neat and well-done the cut was. She knew she could trust the Doctor, but she hadn’t expected her to be quite so skilled. 

“Thank you,” she said simply, rising to her feet. She laughed slightly as she noticed the piles of soft hair carpeting the floor around the chair. She turned to face the Doctor and pulled her into a gentle hug, the kind they both needed after such an emotionally intense experience. 

“Anything for you, Yaz,” the Doctor murmured into her shoulder, wrapping her arms around her friend. They stood like that for a few minutes longer, before wandering back towards the console room. 

Yaz sat back down against the pillar she had been leaning on before while the Doctor went to fiddle with the console. Yaz yawned, a wave of tiredness suddenly sweeping over her. “I’m worn out after that,” she said, rubbing at her eyes. 

“I’m not surprised,” the Doctor replied. “Sustained, strong emotions will do that to you. Did you get everything you needed from it?” 

“It was better than I could have imagined,” Yaz admitted. “It’s hard to explain how being in a situation where you have no control can be so freeing when it should feel the opposite, but I really needed it. I feel more like myself again than I have in a while, like I can make decisions just for me again, without thinking about anyone else’s opinions. I’m back to being completely my own person.”

The Doctor nodded in understanding. “I don’t think it would have the same effect on me, I’m not a big fan of giving up control. But I’m glad that we found something that worked for you, and I’m glad I was able to help.”

“What was it like for you, Doctor?” Yaz asked. “Taking control like that?”

The Doctor hummed thoughtfully as her hands continued fiddling with the controls. “It was a pretty powerful experience for me, too,” she replied. “I’m used to being the leader on adventures but this was different. It was like I could channel the darker side of myself that will do terrible things when necessary and that says things I normally push down. But it wasn’t unpleasant, it felt good to give in to that side for a while, knowing that it wouldn’t do any harm. I would never be able to do you any harm, Yaz.”

Yaz smiled gently, her suspicions about how power affected the Doctor confirmed. “I know you’d never hurt me, Doctor,” she assured. “Honestly, seeing you take control like that was incredible. It was like you were radiating power. Maybe we’ll have to find another way to do this without my hair getting shorter and shorter…”

They both laughed, their minds already picturing a next time as the Doctor flung the TARDIS into a distant time and place.


End file.
